More Fat Musings

So I was browsing Hari Kondabolu’s tumblr account because he has amazing politics and I have a crush on him. I was heartened to find his reblog of a short Salon.com article by Haley Morris-Cafiero documenting her photography project, Wait Watchers, where she turns the lens back on people that stare or give her dirty looks due to her weight. I had seen Morris-Cafiero’s work before and I was excited to share it again on my Facebook feed. I’d shared it before, but I don’t know why this time it just felt important. 

Hours later I noticed a Facebook friend of mine (not especially a friend persay) had shared my link without linking the full exhibition via Morris-Cafiero’s website and had proceeded to curate a conversation with her friends on her Facebook that consisted of breaking down Morris-Cafiero’s work and denying that the artist may experience oppression due to her size. The thing that made me angry the most was that all of these people commenting were thin. They were searching very hard to find other explanations for the subjects’ expressions around Morris-Cafiero. 

This all made me angry and a bit sad, but then I remember that this person who shared the link was the same person who proceeded to tell me and another friend about how horrible it was to be around fat people in the Houston airport, and how funny they looked using the tram because they were too fat to comfortably walk the distance. 

I admit I don’t understand this person very well. What I do understand though is that she does not see the people in the fat bodies. Fat people are an inconvenience to her. Fat people are subjects of jokes and derision. 

What it reiterates for me is that fat people are not worthy of humanity, and because I am fat that includes me. I'm sick of being dehumanized and watching others be dehumanized because our bodies are seen as invalid.

(Please check out Haley Morris-Cafiero's awesome work here)

Untitled (a poem)

you fucking left me, you left me on the train

i saw your eyes glazing over while that man wrapped his thick fingers around my neck and tried to take my humanity from me.

i watched you look away, i watched you pretend like it wasn’t happening

what the fuck is wrong with you?

i will not be another Kitty Genovese because

there have been far too many of us already

people talk about phoenixes,

but what they don’t really remember is like Mama Butler said, we gotta burn before we can rise and well I have fucking burned so many times I have fire in my blood instead of haemoglobin.

those horrible clawing fingers and those vile words are not perceptions

that is why every slur, ever dirty look is like a dagger in my soul

they are facts in my life, that shit happens

how do you tell someone that you’re sorry?

i gotta rise above,

we, all us Kittys, we are all phoenixes

there is no other choice, no other road

i take my rage and hide my face

i spit truth because i cannot lie

i cannot die

because you left me on the train.

and my life is worth so much more than that

(c) 2013 T.G.

Community Alert: Hate Crime in Downtown Portland Last Night

On August 6th around 9-10pm a Latina woman was assaulted by a group of White men after she refused to acknowledge their initial harassment of her. They punched her and also threw garbage including beer bottles at her. The crime occurred on Stark and 13th Avenue in downtown Portland, OR. If you can identify any of the people in the photos or have any other information about this crime please contact the Portland police's non-emergency line @ 503-823-3333.

I’ve had some interesting epiphanies this week, as usually happens during this time of year. I am seeing myself in new ways. I forget that despite my strong identification with my roots and my brown-ness, my skin color allows me White passing privilege and most people don’t identify me as POC. Overt racism towards me usually occurs when I “out” myself. The micro-aggressions (and actual aggression) towards me may have more to do with the fact that I don’t wear clothing and accoutrements that are stereotypically consistent with my perceived gender (male) and that this also makes me “visibly” queer.

It’s funny that I have thought more about and agonized over my brown-ness and neglected to consider this other facet of my identity. Maybe it’s because I am more comfortable with my appearance and fashion choices. I need to think about my White-passing privilege more and how that intersects with my more “visible” differences. 

(p.s. masculinity/femininity are social constructs and I will make them into whatever I desire)

United States of What?

Both of my parents came from working class backgrounds and rose out of their class level. They taught my sister and I the value of hard work, community involvement but also to be critical of the status quo.

It is through those lenses that I developed into an adult, and when I discovered that the American dream was a lie, I admit it stung. But I took my existential anger and channelled it into advocating marginalized people and deconstructing the interlocking systems of oppression that keep the great White capitalist hope grinding the rest of us into oblivion.

Today however, I woke up exhausted. The news lately has been nothing but awful. The government is spying on us through organizations that are supposed to protect us, there are still wars raging in Afghanistan and Iraq (and one soon to come in Syria I fear), the Supreme Court just crippled the Voting Rights Act, and freedom of the press is slowly eroding away with the criminalization of whistle-blowers. I don't recognize my country anymore.

I am angry. I am angry that I feel like I have to be careful what I publish, that I still don't have health insurance, I am angry that anti-Semitism is on the rise, that mixed-race families in my city are getting swastikas spray pained on their property, I am angry that I could get fired if my boss found out I am queer. I am angry that I voted to re-elect Obama and he has betrayed us.
I don't feel safe here.

Invocation for strength ~ Moonrose Shaundel Angeles

Isis. the rainbow of sapphire mysteries
you are the calling I hear from
the wind in my bones.
oh mother of life
begotten from your womb of light
we rise now out of the masculine death
that is jehovah's enslavement
in the fullness of sweet woman's blood
and fairy rage--
our touch blossoms.
like the tides of earth, we are strong to come again.

i believe in the goddess
the movement for life.
thorned by our genderless
brightening for our powerless
and suckling our struggle.
by the rose in my chakras
i tap the androgyne.
with you our love is revolt
with you we are each
atoms of significance.

Diana
my lover of amazons
my triumph of faggot witches.
feed us the lunar nectar
between the poems and tears
between silence and celebrations,
and guide us to destroy
the machinery that alienates us.
then shall our captors parasite
upon themselves.

oh Kali
the source the destroyer the
return: in pain's dignity
your face is behind our faces.
we are strong to come again.

Community Alert: White Supremacist Literature Found in Milwaukee Neighborhood

KATU News broke this story earlier this week when a Milwaukee resident found these racist fliers left on cars along SE International Way. The pamphlets are mostly in Spanish and probably being used to target Latino immigrants for intimidation. They lead back to a White supremacist group. The Milwaukee woman who found them, Dinah Davis, told reporters she was horrified and that she wants the group to know they're not welcome in her neighborhood.

Please be aware and stay safe. Report and White supremacist activities to your local law enforcement officials, the media and Rose City Antifa.